Good morning everyone, and welcome to this, my first, and possibly best, blog.

I'm writing to you from the sunwashed basement of Southampton Solent university, which is where I spend my Fridays, teaching youthful people the ins and outs of Logic audio, and giving them tips and pointers on "urban music" production.

Which in their case, is usually drum and bass. About which, they know a lot more than me. But I know more about life, love and the pursuit of happiness, so the balance is redressed, if not super redressed. Maybe even over redressed.

Anyway, what has this got to do with anything, you may wonder. Well, as much as I like teaching, and I do, I find myself waking up at 4 o'clock in the morning bathed in sweat, sobbing with fear that I may die doing this. PLEASE! GOD! NO!

So with that somewhat sobering motivation in high in the brain, I began looking around the house for things I could sell. Things that would help me finance my high rolling life-style. The yacht, the roller, the kids, the Gucci wife and matching handbag set. And these were just the things I thought about selling.

Then, I realised. I was sitting on it. My own big, fat, lazy, barnacle encrusted ass.

My best asset was lying buried under a pile of News of The World newspapers, dating from 1993. It was called Freakpower, and I could see it's gnarled hand still twitching under the pile of rotting newsprint.

Now, don't get me wrong, I love teaching the kids and all that. I love the fact that I'm imparting all my hard garnered knowledge for peanuts to a bunch of middle class, over privileged white people, I mean, who wouldn't?

Only a selfish, self centered, egotistical screwball narcissist wouldn't take total joy from that experience, right?

Well, welcome to my world, baby.

I want the love to come from hordes of sweaty, pissed up, brain
fucked weekend warriors. They love me because I'M NOT THEM!

I want to bless the masses with my holy sweat, worked out of my body through sheer physical and mental exertion.

In short, I needed to be on stage with my family. The Freakpowers.

I make some calls, everything slots neatly into place, and the next thing you know, we've got some gigs in Britain. Britain, where they piss on their talent until it moves to Switzerland. Britain, where they won't pay for anything unless someone else tells them it's good. Britain, where they can't even raise a team of 11, out of 60 million obese chavvy fuckers, to win at their national game.

But it's my home, and here we shall play.

So, we shall play. We shall play at the Concorde 2 in Brighton on the 20th of February, 2008. We shall play at the Jazz Café in London on the 22nd of February, 2008.

And we shall be running strange and pointless competitions to come and hang with the band at rehearsals. There will be free tickets. There will be reasons to watch this space.

I feel strangely compelled to keep a log of all events leading up to, and including these events,

Lord Freak

Brighton
November 2007.